Serenity Nights
by jane0904
Summary: A companion piece to LAZARENE DAYS, and following on in the Mal/Freya 'verse. Individual ficlets exploring relationships on board Serenity. Read, enjoy and review! NOW COMPLETE but with more tales to follow ...
1. Chapter 1

River snuggled close to Jayne, her head on his chest, her fingers making curls from the hair across his pectorals.

His heartbeat was returning to normal, and he tried hard not to fall asleep after their first love-making session in their new home. So far they only had a couple of mattresses on the floor, but it was theirs.

"Ballet."

"What?" He looked down at her.

"You were wondering how I became so supple."

He grinned. "Was I?"

"When I lifted myself around and -"

"Yeah, well, maybe I did." He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his skin.

She felt it touch her. "I was three when I started classes. I loved it, learning all the new dances, and I wanted to …" Her voice faded and her fingers stilled.

"What, moonbrain?"

After a long pause, she said, "I wanted to be a ballet dancer. To twist and turn, and arabesque …"

"Ara-what?"

She slid from the bed and his embrace, leaving him feeling cold. As he watched, she went up onto her toes, her body seeming to lengthen, tauten, and she reached out. Then she danced, just for him.

Dipping low, one leg stretched high out behind her, her naked form catching the small light and making it special, sweeping her arms across at waist height, palms upward, dancing to music only she could hear.

He felt his body tightening, despite the exertions of just a short while ago, his eyes raking across her form.

Around the interior of the small shuttle she moved, creating shapes that should have been impossible as she executed plies and entrechats, the smoothness of her body glistening in his gaze. Finally she sank to the deck, one leg bent gracefully under her, the other stretched out, her torso leaning over it, arms laid elegantly along her calf.

"River," he groaned, getting to his feet. He held out his hand.

She grasped his fingers and allowed him to lift her to her feet. She was barely breathing hard. "Did you like it?"

"That … that was gorram beautiful." His voice caught in his throat as he pulled her into him, pressing his length against her.

"I would have danced for the greatest in the Core."

"And now you dance for me."

She sighed, feeling his arousal on her belly. "Yes."

He lifted her chin. "You miss it?"

"Sometimes. But I'm not the same girl anymore."

"Moonbrain, much as I'd like to kill the _hwoon-dahns_ who put you through what they did, and take my time over it, it brought you to me."

"That it did." She let go of him and laid down again, pulling the blanket over her as if she was cold.

"You okay?" he asked, lying next to her, careful not to touch, afraid he'd said something wrong.

"Thinking of might have been's." She lifted the blanket and he moved closer. "You don't have to ask permission, you know," she added as she wrapped herself around him.

"Don't want to make you do anything you don't want."

"I want you."

"Good." He let her lay quietly for a moment, but knew she wasn't dozing. "So, you think of the might have been's a lot?"

She shrugged, her skin rubbing on his. "Sometimes."

"What do ya see 'bout me?" He stroked her back. "I mean, if'n I hadn't taken Mal's offer."

"I can't see."

"Yes, you can. I can tell." He looked down into her face. "Figure I'd be dead?"

She nodded slowly. "There is a ninety-three percent probability."

"How?"

"I don't -"

"How?"

"Working for Badger."

"That snake?"

"You did."

"Only 'cause I needed coin to -" He stopped. "So, what, a job go wrong?"

"There are so many variables."

"River …"

"Attempting to rob a cargo vessel. But it was a trap, and the Alliance Federals opened fire."

"I got shot."

"A number of times."

"Well, glad I took Mal's job."

"So's he. You would have killed him and Zoe."

Jayne couldn't help a chortle slip from him. "Well, I'm guessing he wouldn't talk about where the goods were at."

"No. It was messy."

"So they'd be dead too."

"Only in that future. In another he married her and they have a ranch on Calypso. Five children."

"The Cap and Zoe?" He stared at her. "You're kidding."

She smiled. "It isn't as likely."

"Glad to hear it. Can't ever see them gettin' sweaty together."

"They might, if the planets had been in alignment."

He grinned. "Still, something to annoy Hank with on occasion." He set his head back. "What about Frey? She still be around?"

"Her possibilities are very complicated."

"What does that mean?"

"Dead, alive, with Mal, without … married to Beaudine, lying in a grave on Prometheus …"

"'Cause she's psychic?"

River nodded. "There's one where the Academy completed their training of her, and she became an assassin, sent to kill a particular Independent sergeant with a poisoned knife."

"Mal?"

"As I said, it's complicated. And it might have been me."

"Ain't you, River."

"No."

"You're lying here, in our shuttle, in my arms, and I'm thinking all sorts of lewd thoughts right now." He ran his hand up her thigh.

She sighed happily as his fingers delved deeper. "You anchor me, Jayne. Stop my mind from running away."

"Don't need me for that."

"Perhaps not, but I want you for that. I want to be able to lean on you, for you to be there when I fall, to pick me up and dust me down."

"I kinda figured your brother was there for that."

"He loves me. But it's the old me he loves, the one before they cut into my brain with their steely knives. He's still learning to love the me I've become."

"I love ya." He pulled her closer.

"You love me for me. And I am incandescent."

"Ain't gonna ask what that means, even though you're waiting for me to."

"My Jayne knows more than he lets on."

"Ya chose me, River, and that makes me feel better'n all of 'em. I don't have book learning, can't do those sums, but you're here, now, with me in our shuttle. And you're mine."

"I am." She lay back, her hair spread over the pillow. "For always."

"Could be a long time, moonbrain." He squinted down at her. "You see that? One of those possibilities of yours? We gonna live to an old age, with all our grandkids playing round our heels?"

"There are many. Even one where a group of elves come into Serenity and paint the cargo bay sky blue, but I think that one's doubtful."

Jayne grinned. "Wouldn't mind seeing it though." He pressed his fingers further into her heat. "But you ain't answered my question."

"You and me, sitting in rockers on a porch somewhere?"

"Yeah."

Her eyes began to close, her breath shorter. "We will have a ship, Jayne. Be pirates out in the black. Plying our trade with our children at our side. And when the day comes when we can't fly her anymore, when we're too tired to fight, we'll aim her for the nearest star and go out in a blaze of glory."

Jayne considered a moment as his finger rubbed a particularly sensitive area. "Nah," he said finally. "I figure we're gonna be hundred and something, and you'll shoot me."

"There is always that." Her thighs opened and he slid between them. "Would you mind?"

"Being with you for a century or more? Even if I know you're gonna rip my heart out some time?" He grinned. "Helluva way to go."

"I love you, Jayne Cobb."

"Love you too, moonbrain."

"Now are you going to put that inside me, or just lie there letting me admire it?"

"Well, it is a sight to behold."

"Forever could be shorter than you think."

"If you're gonna threaten me …"

"Oh, yes, there. Jayne …"

"You and me, River. Always."


	2. Chapter 2

As Serenity flew through the black, Bethany began to relax. She didn't know how to put her feelings into words, and wouldn't tell anyone if she could. But every second that the Firefly moved further away from Lazarus, she became convinced something bad had been averted. Something to do with Auntie 'Nara.

She sighed and shifted in bed, Fiddler laying on her feet. Walls. Feeling the walls that Auntie Frey and Auntie River had built to keep her out, she understood how they'd done it, and in understanding could copy it. They wouldn't know she was worried. It would make them unhappy, and she didn't want that. Besides, it was going away now.

Fiddler stirred, snuffling in his sleep, his little legs twitching as he chased imaginary rabbits.

She was going to miss Giselle. Uncle Jayne had got her 'specially, but Auntie 'Nara would be happier with a girl puppy. Someone to look after her. Someone to keep her safe.

Bethany wanted Daddy. He'd make things right. Put a weave on it and make it all better.

Wriggling out of bed, she slid the door open then turned back, picking up Fiddler in her good arm, hugging him close.

---

"Daddy?"

She saw movement in the bed and a tousled head appeared. "Sweetheart, you're supposed to be asleep."

"Couldn't."

"Bad dreams?"

She nodded. "C'n I come in with you?"

"Honey?" Kaylee surfaced. "Wha's goin' on?"

"Bethany's having bad dreams," Simon said softly.

"Oh, sweetie." Kaylee managed to pry her eyes open and looked at the little girl standing inside the doorway, her nightie rucked up where she had hold of her puppy.

"Come on," Simon said, lifting the sheet.

Bethany dropped Fiddler on the foot of the bed and scrambled up, holding her cast against her chest as she snuggled between her parents.

"What were you dreaming about, sweetie?" Kaylee asked.

"Bad things."

"If you talk about them, they'll maybe go away quicker."

"Don't remember."

"Well, you can stay with us for a while until you can get back to sleep." Simon put his arm around his daughter and his wife.

"Will you tell me a story?"

"All your books are back in your room …" Simon protested mildly.

"Auntie River says you used to make stories up for her. When she was little."

Simon thought back. "Well, maybe I did, but I'm out of practice."

"Please?"

Kaylee put one hand behind her head. "Oh, go on, Simon. I'd kinda like to hear a story my own self."

Simon gave up. "You'll have to help."

"Momma will help," Bethany promised.

"Okay," Simon said slowly. "But what's it about? And don't say pirates."

Bethany's face fell. "But I like pirates."

"Oh, go on," Kaylee teased. "Pirates is fun."

Simon looked almost panic-stricken for a moment, then took himself in hand. "Okay. All right. Well … once upon a time …"

Bethany sighed happily and settled back. All good stories begin 'once upon a time' and end with 'and they all lived happily ever after'. The good prince always won, and the dragon was always killed. She listened to her father tell his tale, and let his voice drown out all the others.

"She's asleep."

"Good, I was running out of steam."

"It was good," Kaylee insisted. "I like hearing about the young damsel stolen by the pirate king, who steals his heart in turn. And the pretty cabin girl who makes the old sea dog all mellow." She twinkled. "Not sure who's who, but I kinda figure the sea dog's Jayne, on account of the beard."

"Might be Mal."

"Oh, I think he was the second in command. Firm but fair."

"And the fair maid?"

She giggled, suppressing it quickly in case they woke their own cabin girl. "Me."

Simon smiled and leaned across, kissing her gently. "Got that right."

"But what about Hank? Zoe?"

"They're in the next part. Although I'd hoped you'd notice Hank had a small cameo in this as the helmsman on the pirate ship."

"'N' Zoe?"

"An Amazonian warrior with a taste for human flesh."

Kaylee shivered. "Not sure about that."

"Except she's reformed," Simon added quickly. "And about to fall in love with the roguish helmsman."

"Frey?"

"_Bao-bei_, this is my first attempt. I can't write everyone in."

"You've got Inara as the Governor's daughter."

"A happy accident."

"Well, I think you'd better get your thinking cap on. Now Bethie's heard the first part, she's gonna be clamouring for more."

"You think?"

"I know."

"But … pirates? Won't she grow out of it?"

"Hasn't so far."

"It's all River's fault."

"How?"

"Teaching her to read out of things like that."

"Come on, Simon. You were really getting into it."

"Maybe I was," he admitted grudgingly. "But I've got better things to do with my time than make up pirate stories."

"Better than bonding with your daughter? Making her love you even more than she does already?"

He was taken aback. "Well -"

"Wasn't Jayne she climbed in with, Simon. Wasn't River she asked for. It was you."

Simon felt a warmth suffuse him. "She did, didn't she?"

"She loves her Daddy."

"And I love my pumpkin." He put a kiss on his daughter's head.

"You'll always be her Daddy," Kaylee explained. "No matter what happens, who she goes out with, marries, no matter how many kids she has herself, you'll always be her Daddy."

"Kids?"

"Long way off," Kaylee promised, patting his arm in a soothing fashion. "But you really don't want to miss out on the pirate years."

"Is that what you feel about your father?"

"Course. He always made time to play with my brothers and me, even when he was too tired. And he's my Pa."

"I wish …" He stopped, but Kaylee understood.

"They didn't know, Simon. They couldn't've."

"They didn't care."

"But we do." Kaylee smiled at him. "And Bethany knows it."

Simon nodded. "She's my daughter."

"So are you gonna play with her tomorrow? Be the pirate king?"

"I don't know -"

"You could have your shirt open to the waist, show off that chest you hide away."

He blushed just a little. "No-one wants to see that, Kaylee."

"I do." She grinned. "And Bethie'd love it."

"Maybe."

Fiddler stirred down by their feet, getting up to turn around twice before dropping back, not even waking up fully.

"You should play," Kaylee prompted. "I'm sure Hank'd show you how to use a sword."

"I'll have you know I was class champion at fencing."

"No cheating?"

"No cheating."

"See?" she said happily. "I learn something new about you every day. And if'n you show that to Bethie tomorrow, she'll be so proud of you."

"Do you really think so?"

"I know so. You're her Daddy."

"Do you think Hank and Jayne will want to play too?"

"Prob'ly. Why?"

"Oh, nothing," Simon said quietly, planning his campaign. "Just can't let them have all the fun."

Kaylee grinned. "My pirate king," she murmured, running her hand through his dark hair.

"You know what pirate kings do with fair maids, don't you?" he said, taking hold of her palm and licking up towards her fingertips.

"We're not alone," Kaylee pointed out.

"Give me one minute."

Simon gathered his sleeping daughter into his arms and carried her back to her room. Inside that one minute he was back, gazing down at his wife.

"Um, Simon …" Kaylee pointed to the heap of puppy still on the bed.

"Damn." He scooped up the golden furball and hurried back to Bethany's room, placing Fiddler carefully against his little girl.

Bethany didn't wake up, just put her good arm around the puppy, mumbling in her sleep. "Grr. Argh."

For a moment Simon couldn't move, just looked down, his heart overflowing with love and protection for his baby, then he smiled. Tomorrow they'd play pirates, and he'd be the best pirate king ever. Right now, though, his own fair damsel was waiting to be ravished. He slipped out of the room and closed the door.

Bethany smiled, her dreams full of her Daddy dressed in an open white shirt, a cutlass in his teeth, a maniacal gleam in his eye. "Grr. Argh," she muttered.


	3. Chapter 3

In the bigger bunk, only one of the occupants was asleep. The other was sitting at the desk, deep in contemplation.

"I'm afraid. Scared. It's not like I haven't been afraid before, but this …" Zoe stared at her reflection in the mirror on the other side of the room. She looked so … small.

She glanced down at her belly. "How can I be a good mother?" She stroked her skin through her robe. "I want to be a good mother so bad."

"You will be," Hank said, turning over so he could look at her.

"I thought you were asleep." If the lights hadn't been dimmed he would have seen her blushing.

"I was. But I've gotten used to you being next to me, hogging all the blankets."

"I don't hog the blankets."

"Sometimes I wake up with certain portions of my anatomy more than a little chilly."

"Certain …"

"My feet, honey." He grinned, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

She smiled a little. "Sorry."

"But I still heard you." He looked at her, his grey eyes amused. "And, I have to say …You? Afraid?"

"I'm human, Hank. And pregnant. That's enough to scare anyone."'

"Sweetheart, I'd be more scared if _I_ were pregnant."

"This isn't a joking matter, Hank."

Hank sat up in bed, the blanket pooling around his hips. "No, it isn't. And I'm sorry for suggesting it was."

"I can't help how I feel. I'm not ready for this."

"It's not like you're on your own," he pointed out.

"I know. But it doesn't … somehow it doesn't help."

"I wish I knew what to say, Zoe." He sighed. "But I'm figuring there ain't anything to help you right now."

"Probably not," she admitted.

He tried anyway. "You're gonna be a great mother. I'll be a good dad. Our son's gonna grow up on board this ship and he's gonna play with Ethan, Bethany and whoever else comes along. Okay?"

"Sure."

"Wow, you have got it bad." He lifted his legs up so he could rest his elbows on his knees. "So what's got you in this mood?"

"I don't know. I just woke up feeling …"

"Afraid?"

"Yeah."

"There's no need to be."

"Are you telling me you're not?"

Hank laughed. "Oh, Zoe, I am scared shitless!"

"And I'm supposed to not be?"

"You're the mother. You're supposed to be blooming with health, looking forward to the hours, possibly days of painful labour as you give birth."

"Thanks," Zoe said dryly. "That really helps."

"Glad to be of assistance." He grinned at her. "So what particular thing has got you all worried this time?"

"Nothing."

"Must be something."

"The usual, I guess."

"Good mother, bad mother, leaving the kid to play near the compression coil … that it?"

"Pretty much."

"I'm sure Kaylee'll stop him from hurting himself too badly."

"I'm sure she will."

"Come on back to bed, Zoe." He lifted the sheet from his body.

"I'm not tired."

He exhaled noisily. "Okay. Right, well, let's talk about something else then. How about names?"

"Hank -"

"I still say there's nothing wrong with Hoban."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because … dammit, Hank, Wash was my husband! I wanted this child with him!" Immediately the words left her lips she wished them back. The look of pain on Hank's face was almost unbearable.

"I know I'm not him," Hank said quietly. "And I'm sorry. If I could go back, change the past, make it so your _husband_ didn't die, do you think I wouldn't?" He got up from the bed, his brown hair sticking every which way, and pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants. "Only I can't do that, Zoe. I can't make the 'verse right for you. And I'm sorry."

He climbed the ladder, the hatch clanging open. His bare feet disappeared.

Zoe cursed herself. She hadn't meant to say it, and certainly not like that. No wonder he was angry. And worse, hurt.

Hank didn't bother switching the light on in the dining area, just headed straight for the bottle of rotgut Jayne kept in the top cupboard. He splashed three fingers into a glass and knocked it straight back. It said a great deal for his state of mind that he didn't even wince.

"I'm sorry." Zoe spoke from the doorway.

"Fine. Go back to bed." He refilled the glass.

"Are you planning on getting drunk?"

"Maybe."

"I'm not sure Jayne would approve of you drinking his booze."

Hank turned a pale face to her. "You know something, Zoe? I really don't think I care." He tossed the second glass down his throat.

Suddenly Zoe was next to him. "Please."

"What?"

"Don't."

He glared at her. "I bet you weren't like this with Wash. Oh, I know he was perfect. Couldn't do a damn thing wrong. Except he did, didn't he? He died." He tipped the bottle up again.

Zoe picked up a glass. "Fill me."

He stared. "In your condition?"

"I didn't think you cared about that."

"That's my son in there!"

"Yes it is." She took the bottle from his fingers, putting it back in the cupboard. "And I am sorry."

"For it being mine?"

"No. For ever letting you think I'm not proud to have you in my bed. In my life."

"I don't understand."

She took hold of his hand. He let her pull him towards the small seating area, making him sit beside her. She put that hand on her belly, on the swell of his child.

"I didn't want this, Hank. Not without Wash. I admit that." He tried to pull away but she wouldn't let him. "I didn't want you either. But you were there, all the time, trying to make me laugh, to notice you, and I got used to you."

"I know. I was there, remember?"

"Then you know how hard it was for me. But I fell in love with you. So entirely against my better judgement that I didn't even admit it for the longest time. But I did. And when I finally found the courage to let you in, it was …" She stopped and looked down at his hand. "You're not Wash. And  
I don't want you to be. No-one could replace him." She looked back up. "But no-one could replace you either."

"Zoe -"

"Let me finish." She moved a little closer. "I'm scared. Scared of my life never being the same again. Except my life has changed so often before, and I need to remember that." She lifted a hand and brushed his hair flatter. "Wash wasn't perfect. Far from it. But then, I've never met a perfect human being. I think it'd scare me more than being pregnant."

"Zoe, you're the most fearless person I've ever met," Hank managed to put in.

"Maybe I hide it better than most." She smiled. "But if I am it's because you make me fearless. You make me want this baby so badly that I'm willing to do anything to hold him. To meet this child. _Your_ child."

"Ours," Hank said softly.

"Ours," she agreed. "And I am so sorry for hurting you."

"It's okay," he mumbled. "Ain't gonna kill me."

"No, if that happens, you'll be sure I meant it."

He let a small grin appear. "You gonna kiss it better?"

"Your breath stinks of alcohol."

"Does that matter?"

She smiled and moved into his arms, their lips joining as their bodies melded together.

When, after a long time, they let each other up for air, she cuddled into his lap, her head on his shoulder. "You're a strange man, Hank Mills," she murmured.

"It's been said." He wrapped his arms around her. "And I know what Wash meant to you. I shouldn't get jealous over him."

"Do you?"

"God, yes."

"Why?"

He looked down into her dark eyes. "For all the years he got to be with you. All the nights you spent locked in each other's arms. All the fights you had then made up from. Everything."

"I'm jealous of Risa," Zoe admitted in a small voice.

"Are you?" He was surprised.

"Big time."

He laughed. "We make a right pair, don't we?"

"That we do."

"You'd have liked her, you know. And I know she'd have liked you." Hank settled back a little more into the chair. "She might have looked like the first fresh breeze would have blown her away, but she was strong. Had to be, to put up with me. Strong like you."

"I know you and Wash would've got on. Not just because you're both pilots, but … he was such a big kid sometimes."

"Like me?"

"Oh, I can see you two playing dinosaurs together."

"You know, they grow on you."

"I've noticed."

"You wanna go back to bed?"

"Not just yet." She put her head on his shoulder. "Tell me about Risa."

"What do you want to know?"

"What was she really like?"

"Well, she had this way of looking at me like I was an idiot. And I told you about how she accidentally shot me that time, didn't I? Well, it wasn't the only time she aimed a gun at me. There was this one incident when I came home bald …"

They sat together, talking quietly, telling tales of their other lives, their voices murmuring in the corner of the galley until they fell asleep in each others arms.


	4. Chapter 4

Sometimes he just watches her. After they make love usually it's him who falls asleep first, his arm wrapped around her, their heartbeats blending as one, but occasionally he keeps the dreams at bay until he feels her breathing ease, her body relax against him. Then he opens his eyes and watches her.

The chin that might be a little too strong for true beauty, the firm jaw line that juts forward when they argue, almost an entity in its own right. The small scar that only he knows about just beneath her right ear where a man tried to slit her throat when she was eighteen. He's glad the man failed, that the would-be murderer lies beneath six feet of earth.

Her lips, soft, pale pink, that swell under his. Bowed delicately at the top, they are just the right size for his mouth, even when she is railing against something stupid he's done. He smiles. And good teeth.

She moves a little, settling more securely into the crook of his shoulder. A slight sigh escapes those very lips he has been contemplating, and they turn up at the ends.

He wonders what she is dreaming about, hoping it is about him, and that the smile is for no-one else. He continues.

Her nose is just a nose, neither too long nor too short, with just the slightest hint of an upturned end. Freckles, too, a mere handful of tiny dark specks, apart from one larger just beyond the corner of her eye, adorning a cheek that holds round apples of flesh when she grins.

Her eyes he has to envision, closed as they are, the lashes fluttering as her dream progresses. But it is only the work of a moment to conjure their hazel hues, containing the small flecks of gold that dazzle him. When she laughs he melts from the way she looks at him, but when she cries he wants to be her hero and put the 'verse to right.

And when she says she loves him, that emotion shouts as clearly from her eyes as a man shouting from a church steeple.

What do those eyes see when she looks at him? Does she see the nose that is too big, the lips that thin in anger, the eyes that can burn like blue fire when he is enraged? Or does she see the honesty that is inside, the good man he tries to be, the hope he carries in his heart?

He would go onto her eyebrows, dark like her short brown hair, but he always stops, needing her to look at him, to gaze at him with such adoration that he can believe again. He yearns for those long eyelashes to flicker open, for the windows of her soul to look upon him …

She knows, as she always knows, and her eyes slowly lift, their heat piercing him to the core, pinning him with the love she feels, capturing him once more.

"Sorry," he whispers, wanting to drown in her eyes and be saved.

"Don't be."

How could he have forgotten her voice? Warm, soft, wrapping itself around his heart.

"I just …"

"I know."

She reaches for him, her hands running over his skin, igniting fires that are never extinguished.

"I love you," he murmurs, afraid to say it too loudly in case the words vanish into the night.

"I love you too."

And she is there, next to him, her body against his flesh, and he can let his soul free, protected by her as it rises and soars above them. His being is so full of love that he can barely speak, breathing in to capture her essence, to hold it inside, filling him.

"Sleepy?" he asked, her head dropping to fit his shoulder.

"Mmn."

There is a silver hair nestled among the brown, but he'll never tell her. She'll be young to him forever, as he knows he will to her, warmed by the youthful flame of their utter commitment.

She has drifted off again, her lips slightly parted, and he places a kiss like a butterfly's wing. His wife. His _ai ren_. At his side, his strength, his companion, knowing she'll be there for ever. And a day.

Sleep fills his mind like a heavy cloth, and he settles back, smiling as he imagines her beautiful eyes …


	5. Chapter 5

Mal was lying on his back, still dressed, wrapped in that leather coat of his. He'd managed to get one boot off, but that was it. He was now on the bed, one foot on the floor, fast asleep.

"_I wish Simon would wear those nice clothes of his once in a while," Kaylee had said. "It'd be nice to go somewhere, just once in a while, where we can be dressed up."_

"_You want to go out on a date?" River joked._

"_It'd be fun."_

"_My brother doesn't do fun."_

"_Yes he does. And he looks so suai in his formal clothes."_

"_I think he looks silly."_

"_That's only 'cause he's your brother."_

"_Ask him. Or better yet, tell him you're going out. I'll sit Bethany."_

"_You think?"_

"_Or take away all his new clothes and only leave him with the old ones. Then he'll have to dress up, even if it's only to remove Jayne's latest bullet."_

"_It's just he looks so suai …"_

Freya watched Mal sleep as she remembered the conversation in the cargo bay. She didn't care what he wore. He looked nice in his one decent suit, sure, but she liked him in the faded shirts that had seen better days. They felt so good under her fingers, the way the cotton had softened, and some of the creases were permanent now. And she'd had to mend his pants more than once, after they'd split. But it didn't matter. None of that mattered. It wasn't what he wore that counted.

"I know he has big feet," she whispered. "That they're inside those socks right now. That he has really nice legs, hidden away where no-one can see. I know what his tattoo means."

She crossed the room and lifted his leg, pulling off the other boot. Very gently she placed his foot on the bed. He didn't wake, just snuffled slightly.

"I know his chest. Not too muscular, but not skinny. Just a man. I know the spot just below his left nipple that tickles. I know how he smells."

Undoing his gunbelt with care, sliding it from around his hips, she went on. "I know he has scratches on his arms from where he was helping Kaylee in the engine room. I know they're inside his shirt, without having to look. I know he doesn't shave if he doesn't have to."

She moved the chair closer to the bed and sat down. "I know he likes apples but hates bananas." She smiled. "I know where his freckles are."

He turned his head, his mouth slightly open as he snored gently.

"I know the look on his face at night when he's tired and wants to sleep, and in the morning when he wants to make love before we get up. I know the fire in his eyes when he's angry, and I know the surprise in them when he comes."

She leaned forward, her elbows on the bed, resting her chin in her hands. "I know the bad days, and the worse nights, when he wants me to be quiet and just hold him." She stroked his hair from his forehead. "I know the hope he carries in his heart that his family will survive, and the prayer that he will see them through."

Her voice dropped to barely a breath. "But most of all … underneath all that, I know he loves me."

Mal's eyes opened. "I do at that," he murmured, moving over just enough so that she could lie down next to him.

"Good day?" she asked, settling her body into its usual spot, the scent of warm leather filling her nostrils.

"It was okay. Better now." He wrapped his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. "Tired."

"Then rest. I'm here."

"Good. Good." His eyes drooped, but even as he slid back into sleep, his lips twitched and his voice came softly. "I love you."

"I know."


End file.
